


Souls Cross Ages

by DreamingInWonderland



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/M, Originally posted in March 2015, Transferring my stuff from fanfiction.net
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 07:45:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19330159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingInWonderland/pseuds/DreamingInWonderland
Summary: 5 one shots of twin souls finding each other in every lifetime.Inspired by this quote:'The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have been and will be. Maybe we've lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we've found each other. And maybe each time, we've been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both a goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.' - The Notebook, Nicholas Sparks





	1. The Governess (1790)

Sir Charles didn’t know the how or why, he just knew that there was a part of him that had dreaded the arrival of today. The day that would take her out of his life.

He walked up the stairs, and trod the well known path towards the nursery/schoolroom, as he knew it was exactly where she would be. Charles knew that many of his social circle would frown upon his friendship with the governess, but it was something that couldn’t have been helped. She had been employed to teach his daughter Alexandra not long after James had gone off to Eton and he’d been left widowed following Alice’s death from a respiratory illness. He hadn’t been able to explain it then, and he would be hard pressed to explain it now, but from the minute Elizabeth Hughes had arrived in his house, he’d felt drawn to her. As though they’d met several times before and had said goodbye just as many times.

At first it had been easy to dismiss it. As though it was a manifestation of his grief and loneliness that masqueraded as sense of recognition with the Scottish governess. Of course as time had gone on, it got harder to pass it off as that. The nights when he didn’t attend dinners or a ball of sorts hosted by the wives of his fellow magistrates, were the hardest for Charles to ignore whatever it was that Miss Hughes had stirred in him. He would be sat in the drawing room with Alexandra after dinner, he’d listen as she talked about what she’d learned that day and nod in the right places, but his mind would be elsewhere. His mind would wander two floors up to the woman sat alone in the schoolroom who was neither family nor servant and probably just as lonely as he often felt.

Two years had passed, between Miss Hughes’ arrival and the first time he invited her down into the drawing room after dinner. The first time had been purely so that there was someone to keep Alexandra company while he spoke with one of the Lord’s that had employed his service as a magistrate. On his return, Charles had found his daughter and her governess sat at the piano performing a duet, and he’d felt himself fall a little into whatever grasp Miss Hughes seemed to have on him. In the weeks that followed, he stopped trying to find an excuse to invite her down, and insisted that she dine with them in the evenings. He knew there was more than a hint of impropriety about it, governesses dining with the family were not the done thing in any house. But some invisible and powerful force seemed to compel him to do it.

As time went on a friendship developed between the two. They often stayed up and talked after Alexandra had retired for the night. He learned that she had a sister, Rebecca back in Scotland, who like her, was a governess but one that had married and left her position several years back. When he’d asked about her accent, Charles had learnt that the education she had received had smoothed out the accent which was necessary if she wished to procure the prestigious jobs in the English cities. The more he learned the tighter the invisible hold became on him, but now whatever it was that had brewed and stirred between them had come to an end. Alexandra would be married the following day, and Miss Elizabeth Hughes would be taking a voyage to a colony in the Caribbean to be a governess and companion to the youngest daughter of Governor Crawley.

* * *

As she walked around the rooms that had been hers for the past eight years, Elizabeth thought back on her time with the Carson family. She had come from working for the Granger family in Bath, into a house that was in mourning and became a governess for a young girl losing both her mother as well as watching her elder brother go off to boarding school. When she had first met the master of the house, Sir Charles, she couldn’t explain it, but there was an undercurrent between them. One that spoke of years spent together, many lifetimes lived, when they’d only spoken a brief word of greeting.

Rather than focus on it, (as she knew that it would only lead to ruin or dismissal if she acted on any feeling that was not that of employer and employee) Elizabeth had channelled the nervous emotion into teaching Alexandra. She taught her all the accomplishment that she needed. Taught her to converse in French and a little bit of Italian. Taught her the finer points of conversation and the delicacy of piano playing. Anything that would prove beneficial to her once she left her father’s house and moved into her husband’s.

Eventually she grew comfortable with her life in the house. She knew it was only temporary, that when Alexandra turned eighteen it would be time to seek out alternative employment. It would have been easy for her to walk away, to move onto the next job, if it hadn’t been for one night, two years after she’d started working there, when she’d been invited to dine with Charles and Alexandra every evening. From that night onwards, a friendship had begun to form. They’d stay up long after Alexandra had retired, and originally discussed various aspects of her schooling. But then they’d crossed an invisible barrier and the conversations had turned to childhoods - both different, yet similar in many ways, a shared love for the poetry of John Donne (though they refrained from discussing some of Donne‘s elegies). How she adored Spenser’s _The Faerie Queene_ and its allegorical nature. How he much preferred Herbert and the religious nature of his poems

They had spoken about the recent publication of novels and how even though they’d been available since the 1720’s it still seemed unusual to read something that wasn’t poetry, the Bible or some small educational pamphlet. Elizabeth had never dared write anything about this in her letters home, one hint of impropriety no matter how small and she’d have been whisked back to Scotland before she could blink.

As she reached the bed, she picked up the thin tomes that the family had given her as thanks for the past eight years. It was a new copy of _The Faerie Queene_ , bound exquisitely in gold and red. Elizabeth would treasure it most deeply, on both the voyage and in the Caribbean. She’d confessed to being shocked on receiving a letter from Governor Crawley, inviting her to be a governess and companion to his youngest daughter Sybil. As she knew her time with the Carson family was almost at end, she saw no reason why she shouldn’t accept the position.

Her room was now bare save for the furniture and linens. Her trunk had been taken down earlier, ready to be strapped to the carriage when it arrived. Elizabeth wished that she had been able to stay a day longer and attend the wedding of her young charge, but she was due to be in the Caribbean by the end of the following week. Alexandra had been devastated to learn of this but at the same time she understood why. Still it was better this way, tomorrow the focus would and should be on the bride, nobody else.

* * *

“The carriage is outside.”

At the sound of his voice, she turned around to see him stood in the open doorway.

“Thank you, sir,” she nodded. She knew that Charles had suggested she refer to him by his given name, rather than sir when they spoke privately, but she couldn’t, she never had been able to. As long as she referred to him as sir, she could keep the boundaries between them, keep some semblance of the world they actually lived in.

“I trust everything has been packed.”

“It has sir,” she replied “if anything has been left behind just pass it on to those less fortunate.”

"I will,” Charles nodded in reply as he watched Elizabeth pick up her hat and head out of the schoolroom. “Have you found your time here agreeable?” he asked as they walked down the stairs.

“I have,” she smiled, “it was heartening to see Miss Alexandra bloom before my eyes.”

“And under your tutelage aswell.”

“I cannot agree with that sir,” she replied “I just gave instruction, everything else was her. She is a credit to you and your late wife.”

As they exited the house, Charles hurried forward and waved off the attendant, as he chose to help Elizabeth into the carriage himself. As he helped her into the carriage, they realised, that this was the first time, they’d ever touched in any way. Yet it felt as though the gesture was as old as time, that their hands had been joined many times before.

“I hope you will write,” he said as he let her hand drop, both grieved for the loss of contact, but carried on as though they‘d felt nothing out of the ordinary, “or at least send word that you made it there safe. I will…that is to say Alexandra will fret if she thinks harm has befell you.”

“I shall,” Elizabeth replied with a nod as he shut the carriage door.

For a brief moment their eyes locked, and they both knew that in another life this would be easy. That if they were different people he would ask her to stay, to become his wife. Yet they were bound by the rules, the rules that had been set in stone many years ago, and would probably always be set in stone. With a final nod goodbye, Charles sent the carriage off on its way, as it took Elizabeth Hughes off to distant shores.

As he watched the carriage drive away, Charles didn’t know why, but part of him felt as though this was one goodbye he’d had several times before and that this somehow wasn’t the end after all.


	2. Blue Velvet (1847)

Once again the Mayfair ballroom was full of the elite of London society. Queen Victoria had decided that in honour of her tenth year on the throne, she would hold a masquerade ball for all the debutantes that had entered society that year. Eliza Hughes stood in a corner of the ballroom, desperately hoping not to be seen, she really did not want to be here. However she’d had no choice in the matter. As her eyes scanned the ballroom for any sign of Lord Holland, she recalled the conversation from a week ago. Even now, Eliza could still feel the stinging cheek from the slap her mother had gave her.

_She walked into the drawing room, to see her mother sat on the sofa._

“ _You sent for me?” she asked_

“ _Yes,” her mother replied has she held out a piece of card “you have been invited to Queen Victoria’s Masquerade Ball, and you will be attending.”_

“ _What if I don’t want to?” Eliza replied, she was already sick of the endless whirl of balls she’d been to in the past week._

“ _You will be in attendance my girl, make no mistake.” Ailsa replied “because Lord Holland has been invited and you will be dancing with him.” she added._

_At this pronouncement, Eliza managed to suppress an eye roll. For the past two months, her mother had been laying out the groundwork for the season. She had made it her mission to get her married off by the end of the season. In the week since she’d been presented, at every ball, dinner that she’d attended, she’d been forced to talk with Lord Holland._

“ _But if it’s a masquerade ball how will he know its me?” she asked “I could pay someone to take my place.” Eliza smirked only to receive a slap in return._

“ _You will dance with him, because I will make sure of it,” her mother said sharply “even if I have to drag you there by your hair.”_

Luckily for Eliza, her mother had been taken ill, so she was under the watchful eye of her aunt Margaret, a woman who was more focused on the lives of others, then that of her niece. As her aunt was currently stood receiving the latest gossip from her social circle, Eliza had managed to escape and smoothed down the velvet of her dress and looked for the nearest corner.

* * *

As he entered the ballroom, Charles Carson realised he’d never felt so uncomfortable in his life. Ever since his father had became one of the advisors to Prince Albert, Charles had found himself forced to attend several events because - to quote his mother - ‘it was expected of him’. He’d rather have been at home, going through the books on his uncle’s business which he had joined the previous year. Thankfully, he had gotten his mother to agree that this would be the last one he’d have to go to this season. Matters were not helped by the fact that this was a masquerade ball, so he had to walk around with a mask on his face. He looked around the ballroom, trying to find at least one of the friends he’d made in the past few weeks. He was about to walk over to the drink table when his eyes fell upon a young woman, in a blue dress, stood in a corner attempting to hide as best she could.

Charles would have ignored her, and carried on, but something made him walk over to her.

-x-

From her vantage point, Eliza could see all of the ballroom, or at least most of it. The only parts she couldn’t see were the doorway and the balcony. Her main reason for choosing this spot was that it gave her the chance to see if Lord Holland before he saw her, and give her a chance to hide. As she adjusted the mask slightly, she caught sight of a tall man walking towards her. Eliza frowned a little in confusion. This wasn’t Lord Holland of that she knew, but something about the man who was drawing near, sparked a hint of recognition. A tingling sensation in the back of her mind, that spoke of knowing him already. Of a shared history. But to her knowledge, she’d never seen him before in her life.

“Might I have this dance?” Charles asked as he reached her and held out his hand.

“Yes,” she replied, unsure why she had answered in the affirmative. This was not what she did when she was trying to hide from people she didn’t want to see.

As she took the offered hand, both felt an undercurrent of something. As though they’d held hands before. As though they were always meant to hold hands in some shape or form. Charles led her out onto the ballroom floor, just as the band began to play a waltz. As they moved around the floor, both marvelled at how right it felt. The dance lasted mere minutes, but to both Charles and Eliza it felt like an eternity. He was about to ask her name when Charles saw a man come up behind her. He watched as her eyes closed in annoyance as she heard the man’s unctuous voice.

“There you are Miss Eliza, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Well I’ve been here the whole time,” she replied as she turned to face the other man. Though he wasn’t sure how exactly he knew it, Charles knew at that moment her eyes had flashed a darker shade in her anger.

“Isn’t she funny?” Lord Holland commented, “do excuse us, there are some people I’d like to introduce you too.” he added, as he took Eliza by the elbow and led her over to another corner of the ballroom.

That night was just the beginning. Despite what he’d made his mother promise him, Charles found himself attending several more balls that summer. All in the hopes of seeing Eliza Hughes again. Ever since that first dance, he had been unable to stop the thoughts of her that would flit across his mind from time to time. He knew it was similar for her too. Each ball they attended they’d made sure they had at least one dance. It was the only time that both felt they could drop all pretences and just be themselves. Both felt as though everything was as it should be. The way it was _supposed_ to be. For the first time in a while, Eliza felt like she had another option. One that didn’t involve becoming a grand lady. One where she could just become the wife of a business man.

“25 Eaton Square,” she whispered as the dance came to an end, “you’ll come tomorrow yes? Speak to my father?” she added, a sparkle in her eyes.

“I will,” he whispered back, as he let her hand drop and they went their separate ways. Unobserved by the two, Ailsa Hughes had watched the whole scene unfold. For the past couple of weeks, she had watched her daughter slowly fall in love with this man. She really wouldn’t have minded her daughter marrying this Carson man, but Ailsa Hughes had done her research. The man had no title, and for a woman who wanted her daughter to marry the best, that would just not do. She placed her glass on the nearest table, and went in search of Lord Holland.

* * *

The next day found Charles Carson, nervously walking towards number 25. He had been up most of the night, as he decided on the best way to go about asking Eliza’s father for her hand in marriage. As he drew near to the door, he had finally decided on what he would say. He walked up the front steps, he heard that same unctuous voice he recognised as Lord Holland’s and he felt his heart break with every word he heard uttered.

“Eliza Hughes, will you marry me?”

“Of course she will, won’t you dear,” her mother replied, as she pinched Eliza’s back to make her nod. “she was only saying last night how she hoped this would happen. Weren’t you?”

“Yes I was,” she lied. She knew she couldn’t say what she really thought. If her mother hadn’t threatened to send her sister to the asylum, Eliza would’ve spoken what was on her mind. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure walk past the window. Eliza knew instantly who it was and that he would have heard everything that had just been said. She closed her eyes, and felt a small tear escape from underneath her eyelids. Holland assumed they were tears of happiness, but she knew better. She knew they were the tears of a missed chance.

_One Year Later_

Their eyes locked across the crowded street. Eliza was on the arm of her husband, Charles was stood beside a work colleague. For some unknown reason, both felt tears spring to their eyes. Through her tears, Eliza could see a different life, one where she hadn’t had to marry some dull Lord and her mother hadn‘t answered for her, manipulated events to her own agenda. Through his, Charles could see the night they’d met, the crackle of electricity, the sense they’d met before, the look in her eyes, even through the blurred vision, he could recall every moment in complete clarity and the feel of the blue velvet of her dress beneath his palm as they’d danced.

Then just like that the moment had passed. The tears were blinked back and they nodded slightly as they passed. Neither looked back, but both sensed they’d missed another second chance, one they weren’t even aware that they had been given.


	3. The Butler and The Housekeeper (1896 & 1926)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally published on fanfiction in 2015, so the second half is very different to what we got in canon.

Downton, Yorkshire, 1896

The mist and fog were denser than they had been for a while as the lone figure walked up the path, and round the back of the abbey towards the servants area. Though she hadn ’ t been intimidated by the house when she ’ d been interviewed by the housekeeper Mrs Hill, Elsie had to admit that it certainly looked intimidating with only the top floors showing. However, she couldn ’ t let that unsettle her, as Elsie had been hired, not only to be head housemaid, but to be trained as the replacement for Mrs Hill when she retired in a few years. That was of course if she didn ’ t accept Joe Burns ’ s proposal.

As she approached the back door, she saw a lone figure sat on the bench, smoking. Elsie noticed him regarding her with curiosity, before nodding at her.

“Hello,” she said being polite, it wouldn’t do to appear rude to a new colleague.

“Hello,” he replied standing up and stubbing out the cigarette, before holding out a hand “Joseph Stevens, first footman.”

“Elsie Hughes, new head housemaid.” she replied shaking the offered hand, before Joseph let it drop and told her to follow him as he entered the house.

Five minutes later, she was following Mrs Hill up the many stairs towards the servants bedrooms.

“That door separates the male staff, from the female staff,” she said “as you are head housemaid, I do not need to stress the point that you are not to open that door under any circumstances,” she added before indicating another door “this will be your room, which you will share with another housemaid who I will introduce you to later. Now if you would like to change into your uniform, I will then show you where the washroom is and introduce you to the rest of the staff, and his Lordship.”

As she stood in the servants hall, Elsie tried to make a note of the names of all the servants she was introduced to. She knew she ’ d have to remember Catherine, as she would be the housemaid she ’ d be sharing with. As Elsie was introduced to Mr Byrne who was Valet to Lord Grantham (a title he ’ d only held for five months), it occurred to her that she had yet to be introduced to the Butler. She ’ d caught a glimpse of a tall, proud looking man when she had been sat in the housekeeper ’ s sitting room earlier, but that had been it. She was pulled out of her thoughts from a deep voice behind her.

“What’s all this?”

“Ah, there you are Mr Carson,” Mrs Hill said turning to face the Butler, “I was just introducing our new head housemaid to the staff,” she added indicating Elsie, “this is Elsie Hughes. Elsie, this is the Butler of Downton Abbey, Mr Carson.”

“Hello,” Elsie said looking up at the Butler, who stood several inches taller than her. She did feel a little intimidated by him, but she wasn’t going to let that show. Especially since she had the feeling she knew him from somewhere, but she couldn’t place it. She didn’t recall seeing him when she met with the housekeeper for her interview. Elsie couldn’t recall ever having seen him anywhere before today. Its not as though you’d easily forget him, she thought wryly.

“Welcome to Downton,” he nodded in reply. He refrained from saying more than a few words to this newcomer. Purely because there was something familiar about her, as though he’d met her several times before.

“Is his Lordship in the library?”

“He is,” Mr Carson replied “why?”

“I was going to introduce Elsie to him,” Mrs Hill replied “she is the head housemaid. Unless of course you want to do it.”

“I will,” he replied, a little testily. Although she hadn’t said it in as many words, Charles knew that the Housekeeper hadn’t been that pleased by his appointment to Butler, three years ago, feeling 37 was too young. “Follow me,” he added to Elsie, who wondered why there seemed to be a little animosity between the two heads of staff.

As she followed him up the stairs, Charles began the usual speech to new footmen and Valets.

“Downton is a great house, and the Crawley’s a great family. At first the standards we have may seem daunting,” he began as they reached the green door, that separated the servants area from the house, “but in time…”

“How many times a year do you give this pompous speech, I wonder?” Elsie muttered under her breath as she entered the hall, and noting the monotonous tone of his voice.

“What was that?”

“It’s a very grand hall,” she lied, hoping he hadn’t heard her.

“This way,” Charles said, biting back a smile. He knew that his speech was pompous as did others, but no one had ever said it in his presence before. As he chuckled inwardly, he had a feeling that Elsie Hughes would fit in well at Downton.

As she stood in the library, eyes travelling inconspicuously over the books, Elsie tried not to look too over awed. Both by her surroundings and her new employers. Both Lord and Lady Grantham looked to be a year or two younger than her. Elsie was of course expecting this as she knew they ’ d only held the title for five months, following the sudden death, following the sudden death of the previous Lord Grantham. What awed her most about them though, was how they already seem settled into their new roles.

“I hope you’ll be very happy here,” Lord Grantham said after a brief conversation.

“I hope so too milord.”

“Do I detect a Scottish accent?” Lady Grantham asked, who - up to that point - had been mostly silent, throughout the introductions.

“You do milady.”

“Whereabouts?”

“Argyll.”

“Then you must know of Inveraray Castle?”

“I do, milady, however I grew up in Kilmartin.”

“And you don’t miss it?”

“No milady, I’ve no reason to go back over the border anymore,” Elsie replied, trying not to let her discomfort at the line of questioning show. She didn’t want to be pressed about her family.

“Will that be all?” Charles asked noticing how Elsie seemed a little uncomfortable and for some unknown reason he felt protective of a woman he’d just met. Though he quickly reasoned it as his looking at for the welfare of staff under the jurisdiction of both himself and Mrs Hill.

"Yes it will.” Lady Grantham replied as the two servants took their leave.

* * *

Downton, Yorkshire, 1926

Once again, the mist and fog hung heavy around the Abbey much as it had on her first day there. This time however, it was time for her to leave. On her first day, Elsie had, had no way of knowing what would come in the intervening thirty years. She had seen a lot of social upheaval, service was no longer seen as a desirable profession. Death too had been prevalent, more so in the past few years; William, Lady Sybil, Mr Matthew. Thanks to a change in the law, Lady Mary could possibly become the sole owner of Downton Abbey with control over the whole estate, when her father eventually died. Something that had pleased Charles no end.

She felt her lips turn up into a smile at the thought of the Butler … former Butler. What had started as friendship had grown into love and had cumulated in plans of retirement and marriage. They had intended to retire the previous year, but, Lady Mary had asked the two to stay in their positions as Mr and Mrs Carson for one more year. But now they really were going. Charles had handed the role of Butler over to Thomas who had changed and matured a lot over the past year. Elsie on the other hand, had handed her keys over to a newcomer to Downton, Mrs White, a woman who in a few short weeks of training had got the full measure of life at the house and how to handle Mr Barrow.

“Are you ready?” came a voice behind her.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” she asked looking up at her husband (even after a year it was still weird to think of him as that), everyone knew that his devotion to the house, and to Lady Mary, was second only to his devotion to her. “I know you always assumed you’d be here for the rest of your life.”

“As I have said countless times since I purchased the house. I’m ready to leave,” Charles said placing a light kiss to her hand, before stroking the gold band on the third finger of her left hand. “It just took you to make me realise it,” he added. 

As they both took a last long look at the Abbey, both felt optimistic about the future and how they would spend their remaining years. For some reason, both Charles and Elsie, felt as though the two of them being happily ensconced in wedded bliss had been lifetimes in the making. As though a story that had started many years ago had been completed, but with a hint that much more of the story had yet to unfold.


	4. A Nightingale Sang (1945)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the lyrics mentioned in this chapter. The songs mentioned are:
> 
> All of Me - Billie Holiday  
> I'll Be Seeing You - Billie Holiday  
> It Had To Be You - Harry Connick Jr (of course his version wasn't released at the time this story is set, I just love his version)  
> That Ole Devil Called Love - Billie Holliday  
> A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square - Dame Vera Lynn

‘ _You took the best/So why not take the rest/Baby take all of me_

Charles looked up from the glass he was drying as he often did when she was on stage. As he listened to the song she was performing he guessed that tonight she was in a melancholy mood. This surprised him as since VE day they’d been getting less frequent. Charles knew that Elsie had been engaged to a soldier with the RAF, a Joe Burns, and that he’d been lost at sea. He also knew that she still hadn’t given up hope that he’d come back, even though he often wished she did. Charles knew it was probably extremely cliché but he was pretty sure he’d fallen for her the minute he’d first saw her. Even now, a year later, he could still remember that moment in complete clarity.

Charles had been hurrying down the street, desperate to get out of the rain. If he happened to find a job along the way then all the better. He had been stationed in Germany for much of the year but an injury that had required months of recuperation had seen him invalided out of the Army. He turned a corner and found himself stood outside a small club with a small board in the corner of a blacked out window asking for help. Charles knew the job was likely to be mostly bar work, but these days he couldn’t be picky, and his uncle’s import business wouldn’t be back in business until the War ended. He pushed open the door, and the first thing he noticed was the smell of stale smoke and alcohol, the second thing he noticed was the woman stood beside a piano player on the stage in the corner of the bar. Charles felt a strange tug in the back of his mind, as though he’d seen her somewhere before. But he hadn’t, he’d have remembered this brunette beauty if he had. Might have saved me the heartache of loss aswell if I had met her before the War he thought bitterly as the image of Alice and some random man flitted across his mind.

He made his way over to the man stood behind the bar who he assumed was the manager.

“I noticed your sign,” Charles said “what type of work is it exactly?”

“Serving drinks,” the manager grunted “what’s your name?”

“Charles Carson,” he replied “who’s that?” he asked, as he pointed in the direction of the woman on the stage.

“That’s Elsie Hughes, she is our performer.”

He was about to ask what her performance consisted of, when the man sat at the piano began to play and a soft yet powerful voice echoed around the room.

_I’ll be seeing you in every lovely summers day/In everything that’s light and gay/I’ll always think of you that way/I’ll find you in the mornin' sun/And when the night is new/I’ll be looking at the moon/But I’ll be seeing you._

Charles listened as he heard the hint of wistfulness in her voice. He knew the song well, he’d heard it performed at many a dance he’d attended with Alice when he’d been on leave. But he’d never heard it sung in such a wistful way before. He surmised that there was probably a tale of lost love in her past. _Something we have in common_ he thought to himself.

* * *

Charles was brought out of his reflections on their first meeting, by the sound of the audience clapping as the small band struck up a number that had been popular during the War, and one that they loved to hear her sing. It shocked him a little, Charles had assumed with her mood of the evening, that she wouldn’t have picked such a happy song. For a brief moment, he allowed the thought to enter his mind, that something had changed, and Elsie had decided it was time to move on. But he knew it couldn’t be that. She still wore the chain around her neck that held Joe’s ring.

_It had to be you, it had to be you/I wandered around and finally found the somebody who/Could make me be true, could make me feel blue/And even be glad just to be sad/thinkin' of you/Some others I've seen might never be mean/Might never be cross or try to be boss/But they wouldn't do/For nobody else gave me a thrill/With all your faults, I love you still/It had to be you, wonderful you/It had to be you._

-x-

Elsie exited her dressing room, fixing her hat to the top of her head to see Charles leant against the wall opposite. She smiled as she saw him stood there and took the arm he offered her. Every night without fail, he walked her home back to her little flat three streets away from the club. Even if he did live in the opposite direction. She knew why he did it, knew how he felt about her. He hadn’t said it in so many words but their conversation three weeks after he’d first walked her home told her all she needed to know.

“ _Why do you wait for me every night?”_

“ _To see you get home safe, there is a War on you know.”_

“ _I managed just fine before I met you.”_

“ _You did,” he conceded “but the simple truth of the matter is that I worry about you and wish to keep you safe,” he added “surely you know how much I care for you?”_

“ _I do,” she replied, her hand moving to the ring on a chain beneath her dress “and you must know that right now, I can only remain your friend.”_

As was often the case, they lapsed into a companionable silence as they walked the short distance. In the early days of their friendship, they’d swapped stories as they’d walked. Of lost loves and broken hearts. Of hopes and dreams. Of what life would be like when the War was eventually over. But now, neither found the need to fill the void left by silence.

They reached the steps of her flat, and both were relieved to see that the rain that had threatened to make an appearance all day, had stayed away. In fact it was a perfectly clear night with plenty of stars on show.

“Thank you for caring enough to walk me home,” Elsie said as she turned to face him.

“You say the same every night.”

“I mean it every night.”

“You were very melancholy tonight,” Charles commented as he leant against the railings.

“It comes and it goes,” she smiled, as her hand for once, didn’t move for the chain around her neck at all, “currently it seems to have gone.”

"It must have been the walk that got rid of it.”

“Maybe,” she replied, as she moved to stand on one of the front steps so she was practically eye to eye with him.

Without any conscious thought, both found themselves leaning in towards the other. Charles raised a hand and swept back a strand of hair that had come loose. The air around them seemed to crackle with electricity, as Elsie leaned in further and pressed her lips against his briefly.

“Good night, Charles,” she smiled, before she turned and hurried inside.

“Good night,” he said to the closed front door, before he turned and walked off down the road. He pressed his fingers to his lips as if trying to figure out exactly what had just happened.

* * *

Elsie stared at her reflection in the mirror. The years had been kind to her, but she could still see the signs of age creeping in. She smiled as she remembered the previous evening, her lips still tingled from the kiss. Her fingers traced the gold chain around her neck, that held the ring. She closed her eyes for a brief moment and saw Joe’s smiling face. Only now it was blurred, not as prominent as it had once been. It then occurred to her why she hadn’t felt guilty about kissing Charles. She reached behind her and unclasped the chain, and removed it. She stared at the ring for a moment, and then placed it into a drawer. It was time for her to stop waiting. Especially when she found her heart now belonged elsewhere.

“You’re on in five Ms Hughes,” came the voice of the manager.

She knew exactly what songs she’d be singing tonight. And if Charles was watching and she knew he would be, he hoped she’d catch her meaning.

As the music started, Charles wondered if she’d be in another melancholy mood again. She’d avoided him from the minute she’d walked in and wondered what she’d perform tonight. His most overwhelming thought was that she regretted kissing him the previous night, even if it was only a brief thing.

_Its that ole devil, called love again/Gets behind me, keeps giving me the shove again/Putting rain in my eyes, tears in my dreams/And rocks in my heart_

This certainly made him look up. When it came to love songs she’d always seemed to stick to the more melancholy, lost love ones. So to hear Elsie singing one about finding love again, gave him pause. Gave him hope that maybe something had changed.

“What can I get you?” he asked, as he turned away from the stage, and to face the customer who had just walked up to the bar.

By the time he’d finished serving, she had already changed songs, and was singing one that he knew was her favourite. It was one that she preferred to sing in private. In fact he’d only ever heard her sing it in public once, and that was as a request from a soldier on VE day when he wanted to propose to his sweetheart.

_The moon that lingered over London town/Poor puzzled moon, he wore a frown/How could he know we two were so in love/The whole darn world seemed upside down/The streets of town were paved with stars/It was such a romantic affair/And as we kiss’d and said goodnight/A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square_

As she sung the last lines of the verse, he managed to catch her eye, and the wink she sent in his direction. Charles knew she was referring to the events of last night, and with her previous song he realised what she was attempting to tell him. A while back Elsie had told him she wasn’t ready to move on, but now he could sense that she was ready. Their story was about to start anew.


	5. Love of a Lifetime (2015)

There were three things of which Elsie Carson was absolutely certain of in that moment. Firstly, she needed to rethink the proposal that the museum would be sending to the Smithsonian. Secondly, she needed to ask Beryl if she was up for catering Jessica’s rehearsal dinner as well as the actual wedding. Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly of all, she was going to kill her husband when she got her hands on him.

Elsie knew he’d been working himself into the ground since the head of the Archaeology department had resigned and he was acting as temporary head. As well as moderating the A Level papers for one of the exam boards. She had told him countless times that he needed to slow down, and now she had the ammunition to make him do just that. Even if she would end up having to banish him to the guest room to accomplish it. Especially if she considered it payback for the sensation of ice in her veins after she’d received the phone call from the university’s receptionist. Elsie had just been glad she was in her office at the time. She didn’t think fainting in the middle of the Ancient Egypt department would be appropriate behaviour for its curator.

Elsie looked at her watch and sighed. She had arrived ten minutes ago, and had been told by the nurse, that Charles was with the doctor and she could see him when they were finished carrying out a myriad of tests.

She leant her head back against the wall, and looked up at the ceiling tiles of the waiting room. She brushed a stray lock of hair that had come loose back behind her ear, and began to count how many tiles there actually were on the ceiling. Eventually, Elsie grew tired of counting the tiles and her mind began counting the numbers that had made up their marriage. They’d met thirty years ago, and they had been married for twenty eight of those. There was one mortgage on their house with five bedrooms, one dog, two children.

This invariably led her to thinking back on their relationship. She could see every single moment from the minute they’d met in their final year at university to their weekend away a week ago, in complete clarity. It was as though someone had pressed play on a DVD player and she was watching it all unfold in front of her eyes.

_The sound of Simple Minds thudded away in the background as Elsie made her way towards the bar. She was supposed to have met Beryl half an hour ago, but she’d been running late, as she’d been stuck in the library. As she wove through the crowd of students on the dance floor, she caught sight of her friend and waved, accidentally hitting someone in the process._

“ _Oh I am so sorry.” she exclaimed as she realised the person had spilled their drink down themselves._

“ _Its nothing,” Charles replied as he waved off her apologies._

“ _On the contrary, it doesn’t look like nothing,” she replied, as she indicated the liquid that spread on his shirt. “You have to at least let me buy you another drink as an apology.” she smiled._

“ _Well, it is the least you can do,” he smiled as they made their way towards the bar, “you’re in my Ancient Civilisations class aren’t you? You heckled me during my presentation on the virtues of the Roman Empire.”_

“ _Well, you are the old bat’s pet, someone had to take you down a peg or two,” she teased, gaining a laugh in return._

_-x-  
_

_It had been six months since Elsie had spilled her drink over him and their relationship had gone from strength to strength. She’d never have guessed that a spilt drink could be the basis for a relationship, but in this case it was true. As she pushed open the door of the museum, she saw Charles stood at the bottom of the steps, waiting for her. Elsie knew it was probably undignified of her but she couldn’t help it and she practically ran down the steps and straight into his arms. However, as he had been visiting his parents in Yorkshire for a week, she felt it was justified._

“ _Hello,” she smiled before she reached up and kissed him. The kiss deepened and both poured all the pent up longing of the past week into it. If they hadn’t been in public, Elsie would have been sorely tempted to take it further._

“ _I guess you missed me then?” he asked when they broke apart._

“ _I did.” she replied as she tucked herself under his arm, “Did you have fun back home?”_

“ _It was very enjoyable, I would have enjoyed it more if you were there though” Charles replied, “I also managed to fit in a day trip to Scotland.” he added._

“ _No one takes a day trip to Scotland.” Elsie commented with a laugh wondering what the hell had gotten into him._

“ _They do if they need to speak to a Scottish woman’s father,” Charles replied as he patted his coat pocket and Elsie came to a sudden stop. He removed his arm from around her shoulders, she watched as he sank down onto one knee in front of her. Her hand came to cover her mouth as she realised what was about to happen. “Elsie Hughes, will you marry me?”_

_-x-_ _  
_

“ _Please welcome to the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife, Mr and Mrs Carson.” came the voice of the DJ to applause from the assembled guests as Charles and Elsie took their places in the middle of the dance floor._

“ _I should probably tell you know,” Elsie began “I have no idea what song its going to be.”_

“ _Why not?” he asked as the music began, and they started to move._

“ _Years ago, Beryl and I had a drunken arrangement in that if I ever got married, she got to pick my first dance song.”_

“ _Didn’t you try to stop her?”_

“ _Have you ever tried saying no to Beryl?” she laughed resting her head against his shoulder, and she felt Charles’s chuckle in response._

_As the chorus of the song started, both inwardly cringed at Beryl’s choice of music, they knew of her penchant for power ballads and it seemed their wedding was no exception._

‘ _Cause I’m your lady_

_And you are my man_

_Whenever you reach for me_

_I’ll do all that I can_

* * *

Elsie was pulled out of her reflections by the sound of two sets of footsteps. She looked over to the door, to see Jessica and Edward entering the room. Jessica was their eldest, and was an almost mirror image of Elsie but with Charles’s eyes. Edward was five years younger then his sister and a more even mix of both of his parents. She stood up and met them halfway, as both her children threw their arms around her. Despite the fact they were worried about their father, she couldn’t help but smile as she recalled the times they’d done this when they were younger.

“How is he mum?” Jessica asked when Elsie finally let them go.

“He’s having some tests done, but they say that it definitely wasn’t a heart attack,” she replied.

“You don’t sound relieved,” Edward noted.

“Its because I never stop worrying about your father,” Elsie replied with a weary smile.

“Mrs Carson?” came a voice from the doorway. Elsie looked up to see the nurse she had spoken to earlier stood there. His expression unreadable.

“Yes?” she replied, as an icy fear gripped her heart and the worst case scenario flitted across her mind.

“The doctor has finished with your husband, you can go in and see him now.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, as she felt relief wash through her, as she moved to follow the nurse, but stopped when she realised that her children weren’t following her “you two not coming?”

“We’ll be along in a moment,” Jessica replied “give you and dad a little time to yourselves first,” she added. She and Edward had both agreed on the way over, that they would let their mum speak to him first (if she wasn’t already with him) as she would probably have a few choice words to say to him.

Elsie smiled at them, she knew their reasons for it and not for the first time wondered when her 27 and 22 year old children had gotten so wise. She followed the nurse to her husband’s hospital room.

As she reached the hospital room, she was met by the doctor who had been treating him.

“Mrs Carson, I presume?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Doctor Clarkson, I was treating your husband.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, all his tests came back normal, we do want to keep him overnight just as a precaution.” he replied “though he is going to need to take it a little easier in the future.”

“I’ve been saying that for weeks,” Elsie muttered under her breath “don’t worry doctor, I’ll take care of him.” she added as she headed into the hospital room. As she got her first glimpse of her husband, she felt her previous anger evaporate, to be replaced by the relief he really was alright, and only a small hint of anger that could wait for the moment.

Charles looked away from the window at the sound of heels against the floor tiles and saw Elsie walking towards him. He saw the look on her face, and immediately wished he could shrink into the bed and ignore her altogether. He knew exactly what that look meant, he’d been on the receiving end of that look, plenty of times before.

“I’m sorry,” he offered weakly, as she drew near to him.

“It’ll take more than an apology this time, Charles Carson,” she replied as she sat down in the chair beside the bed, “do you have any idea, how worried I was? All the way here, I was worried I was going to lose you.”

“That’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

“It better not,” she agreed “Jess is getting married in six months time and I daresay she wants her father to walk her down the aisle. Edward is going to want you there when he graduates. Plus I have intentions of us making it to at least our diamond wedding anniversary.”

“I know you do,” he replied as he held out his hand to her and smiled when she placed her hand in his, “and you’re never going to lose me.”

“Can you really be sure of that?” Elsie asked.

“Come here,” Charles said, moving over a little, so that there would be space enough for her to lie next to him. After a moments hesitation, Elsie climbed up onto the small bed, and led beside him, her head against his and hand placed across his heart, just like she’d done all those years ago on their wedding night, and countless times in the many years since. “Do you remember what you asked me on our wedding night?” he asked feeling her nod in reply, “my answer is still the same.”

Elsie smiled, and looked up at the sound of the door opening to see Jessica and Edward walk in. She’d give Charles his talking too tomorrow, right now, she just wanted to be with her husband and children. As she lay beside him and enjoyed the quiet family moment, she recalled those words from their wedding night and felt a lot calmer than she had in the past hour or so.

“ _Do you ever get the feeling we’ve lived thousand lives?” she asked, resting a hand over his heart._

“ _Sometimes,” he replied as his fingers traced patterns along her bare back,“and I’ve no doubt we’ve found each other in all of them.”_


End file.
